


with ash in your mouth

by Lise



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Brothers, Dysfunctional Family, Gen, Heat Stroke, Hurt Loki (Marvel), Hurt/Comfort, POV Loki (Marvel), Pre-Canon, Pre-Thor (2011), Siblings, Thor (tries to be) a Good Bro, one of those 'you can see the writing on the wall if you know what's coming' fics, quietly but hoo boy is it on the horizon, this took way too long to write
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:26:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22792459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lise/pseuds/Lise
Summary: Thor invites Loki to come with him and his friends on a trip to Muspellheim. This turns out to be a grave mistake on everyone's part.
Relationships: Loki & Thor (Marvel)
Comments: 48
Kudos: 749





	with ash in your mouth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bereft_of_frogs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bereft_of_frogs/gifts).



> This was meant to be my annual 'giving Loki heat stroke' fic for 2019, which obviously did not happen. But here it is anyway, now, in the dead of winter! If you're missing the warmth, I guess, here's too much of it? Also plotless whump, which...feels like it's been a while since I did one of those. Sometimes feel like I've lost the way of it.
> 
> This fic is dedicated to [bereft-of-frogs](http://bereft-of-frogs.tumblr.com) who encouraged this all the way from the beginning of last summer every time I mentioned it. With thanks as always to the inimitable [Amelia](http://ameliarating.tumblr.com), who keeps me more or less functional. 
> 
> Enjoy, and remember your sunscreen.

“Muspellheim,” Loki said, incredulous.

“Yes,” Thor said.

“You want to go to _Muspellheim,_ ” Loki repeated. Not so much hoping that he’d misheard - he was certain he hadn’t - as hoping that he might pull some ounce of sense out of Thor and make him realize the absurdity of what he was suggesting.

“Is that not what I said?” Thor said, a trace of irritation entering his voice. 

“Why?” 

Thor looked taken aback by the question. “ _Why?_ Why not? We have never gone before. The land of the _fire giants,_ Loki. Of Surtur the Ever-Burning. Dragons and fire demons-”

“You are not making this more appealing.” 

“ _Loki,_ ” Thor said, reproachful. “Where is your sense of adventure? Aren’t you curious? Would you not like to go somewhere new?” He paused, and added, “are there not things there that might be useful for some of your...spells, or - what have you?”

Loki raised his eyebrows. “My ‘spells, or what have you,’” he said. Thor frowned at him. “I am not fond of the heat, Thor.”. 

“So you will leave us to go alone,” Thor said. His eyes were wide, imploring. A transparent attempt at manipulation, and Loki steeled himself against it. 

“If you say ‘we’ then you are clearly not alone,” Loki said. Thor’s eyes narrowed, but only for a moment. 

“We would be without your magic. And your wits. The poorer for the loss of both.” 

_You never seem to care all that much about either,_ Loki thought, but he bit his tongue and held his ground.

“Loki, _please,_ ” Thor said, heartfelt. “How could I go adventuring without my brother?” 

Loki wavered. He was still, unquestionably, being manipulated, and yet as always Thor’s needs (Thor’s wants) tugged at him. And some part of him imagined, too, Thor and his friends whispering about him: _Loki, the coward, scared of a few fire demons._ Laughing, teasing each other, growing ever closer to each other and leaving him on the outside. Telling Thor: _why do you bother? Yes, he is your brother, but look at him._

Something of his thoughts must have shown on Loki’s face, because Thor brightened, the gleam of anticipated victory lighting in his eyes. “It would not be the same without you,” Thor said, and Loki sighed and cast his eyes upward, surrendering. 

“Very well,” he said. “If you insist. You are likely to get killed without my supervision, and mother would cry.”

Thor laughed and clapped Loki on the shoulder, squeezing once and beaming at him. “As would you, brother,” he said. “You cannot pretend otherwise. You would miss me.” 

Loki caught a smile tugging at his lips that he fought to tame. “I would, would I,” he said, and ducked out of the way of Thor’s attempt to ruffle his hair. “When do we leave, then? And who is accompanying us? The usual suspects?” 

“Of course,” Thor said. He radiated satisfaction at having won, and a brief, faint flicker of resentment flared up in Loki’s chest and then died. “We plan to leave tomorrow.” 

Loki raised his eyebrows. “And does Father know?” Thor glanced a little aside, and Loki barked a laugh. “How very _clandestine_ of you. You know he would forbid it.”

“That is why I don’t intend to tell him. As far as he knows, we are going to Alfheim.” 

“And you don’t worry that Heimdall will inform him otherwise?” 

Thor hesitated, and Loki’s stomach soured. 

“Ah,” he said. “I see.”

“That’s not _why_ I asked _-_ ”

Loki forced a smile. “Of course not. You didn’t just ask me because you need me to help you sneak out, but for the sheer pleasure of my company.” The bitterness in his voice was unmistakable even to Thor, and his expression pinched.

“Don’t be like that.”

“Like what?” Loki took a deep breath. “Tomorrow. When?” 

Now Thor looked uncertain. “Morning. Early.”

“Well then,” Loki said. “I had best pack.” He started to close the door, but Thor caught it. 

“I mean it,” he said, sounding almost desperate. “I’m not just asking because...I _do_ want you there, Loki.”

_You say that like you mean it. And yet last time, and the time before that, you didn’t bother to ask._ And yet Thor’s sincerity still eroded his anger, filing it away like a whetstone smoothing the edge of a blade. He resented that, too, but he let it happen.

“Fine,” he said, and because Thor still looked distressed added, “I believe you. But I still need to pack.” 

“All right,” Thor said, though he still seemed reluctant, and his smile was less certain. “This will be fun, brother. And we will return with many victories of which you might boast.”

Loki’s smile felt thin. “I’m sure,” he said, though in the safety of his own mind what he thought was _or you will._

* * *

They did not bring horses. In Muspellheim’s heat, they would not fare well. They would be going on foot.

When Loki stepped out of the portal, the heat hit him like a wall, sending him stumbling back a step. He broke out into an immediate sweat, and his first inhale of hot air felt searing in his throat and lungs. _No,_ he wanted to say. _This was a terrible idea, I hate it here, I’m leaving and you can find your own way home._

Thor and the others were all staring at him. “It’s hot,” he said, by way of explanation. 

Thor snorted. “It’s _Muspellheim,_ Loki. Home of the fire giants. Of course it’s hot.” 

Loki’s nostrils flared and he bit back his response. If he turned back, Thor would never let him forget it, let alone his friends. Loki the coward, Loki the weakling, can’t take a little heat. 

He forced himself forward, flicking his fingers at his side to shape a spell to cool the air immediately around his skin. The relief was immediate, although not entire, and it would drain him quickly if he held it. Hopefully he would grow accustomed to the temperature. Or perhaps this was an especially scorching piece of this molten Realm.

But he doubted it.

“What now, then,” he said, not bothering to keep the acid from his voice. 

Thor gave him a dirty look and pointedly turned his back. “I wonder if we can find a dragon,” he said.

_You’d better hope we don’t,_ Loki thought, but he kept it to himself. “That would be a fine thing,” Volstagg said. “Though I hear they are not common, even here.”

“Perhaps a giant,” Fandral said. “I should like to test myself against one of those brutes.”

“You’d piss yourself if you saw a real fire giant,” Sif said. Hogun let out a muffled laugh, and Fandral clutched at his chest.

“You wound me, Lady Sif!” 

Loki was beginning to remember why he’d begun to avoid these little excursions. The subtle feeling of being _outside,_ of being _not one of you;_ he wasn’t certain if it was intentional or not, but either way it nagged at him like a burr under his clothes. He kept his head down and checked his knives, blanking his expression and listening to them beginning to argue about which direction to go. 

“If you go east you are going to run into the Lake of Fire,” he said, studying an outcropping of rock that looked vaguely like a bearded old man. “You could skirt the edge of it, but anything that lives there, in my understanding, is more likely to drag you into it than come out to fight you. North will take you toward Surtur’s lair. Unless you are inclined to fight an army I recommend against setting that as a destination.”

Silence fell and Loki glanced toward Thor’s friends, who were looking at him with, variously, surprise, confusion, and some curiosity. Loki shrugged. “I read things,” he said, by way of explanation.

“Do you have a suggestion for which way we _should_ go, then?” Sif asked, something of a challenge in her voice.

“I would not dare presume,” Loki said dryly. 

“Loki,” Thor said reproachfully. “Don’t be like that.”

_Like what,_ Loki wanted to say, _what shouldn’t I be like, Thor,_ but he didn’t. He knew he was just irritable, mostly because of the heat ( _not all_ ) and picking a fight with Thor wouldn’t help. It would just turn into a fight with all the rest of them as well, and that _really_ wouldn’t help.

“South,” he said. “Or west. Either way. The maps and descriptions are fairly vague, and I make no promises about satisfactory prey in either direction.”

“West it is, then,” Thor said, and grasped Loki’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “See? I told you we’d need you along, brother.” 

Loki resented, slightly, the glow of pleasure that rose in his chest. He raised his eyebrows in Thor’s direction. “Always glad to be useful,” he said, and perhaps there was something in his voice he didn’t mean to be there, because Thor’s eyebrows drew together. He seemed to dismiss it, however, releasing Loki and moving away. 

“Let us go, then,” he said. “And find ourselves some foes to defeat.”

Loki let out a quiet sigh, rolled his shoulders back, and followed after his brother. He could feel the suffocating heat pressing in around him like it was trying to break through his skin of cooler air. Bearing down on him, and he hunched his shoulders defensively against it. 

They moved deeper into Muspellheim, Loki maintaining the spell despite the drain it was on his resources, sapping energy he might need to use later. Eventually he was going to have to make a choice between moderating the temperature for his comfort and conserving his magic to deal with the inevitable disaster that was going to come down on their heads, because that was how these adventures _went._ But for now...for now, he was going to save himself a little discomfort, and pretend that nothing was going to go wrong, and this was going to be an uneventful and disappointing jaunt where no one would end up asking him to treat severe burns, forcing him to explain that magic was _not_ all the same and his ability to heal was, at best, passable. 

Not that he’d had that conversation before. 

Loki pressed down his bitterness, exhaling slowly. _Why not at least try to enjoy this,_ he thought. _You used to._

That was part of the trouble, though, wasn’t it? That things had changed, and no one else seemed to realize it.

* * *

It didn’t take long for them to run across their first opponents.

“Fire demons!” Hogun shouted, and indeed there they were, crawling out of cracks of magma that formed in the ground. Loki leaped back from one that opened in front of his feet and cast, ice sheeting over it, but it melted faster than Loki could make it form. He skipped a few steps away, drew one of his knives and swept his fingers over the blade to chill the metal. Loki flicked his eyes around, counting - he saw nine, no, ten, and he suspected they might not stay that few. One of them said something that didn’t translate in a voice like crackling flame, and they attacked.

He couldn’t have his concentration divided. Loki dropped the magic skin shielding him from the heat and nearly staggered as it hit him anew, but forced himself to steady, sweat immediately breaking out on his skin. He sketched a sign with his fingers and clenched his fist, and one of the demons began to blacken, magmatic skin hardening into rock, smothering the flames rippling off its body. A twist of his wrist and it exploded into shards of black volcanic stone. 

“Loki!” Thor shouted, and he pivoted, then ducked just in time to avoid a jet of flame. He slid under it, summoned one of his throwing knives, and threw it with a whispered word; the blade sank into the demon’s shoulder, ice beginning to spread from the impact point. He was already turning to face his next attacker. Sweat was beading on his skin, sliding down his back under his leathers. The blade that swept through the air, nearly slicing into his chest, was white hot; Loki felt his skin start to burn just from proximity. He threw out a hand in his own quick slashing motion, throwing the demon back, where Sif dispatched it with a sword to the chest.

He could hear Thor laughing. At least one of them was having fun, Loki thought sourly.

The fight didn’t last much longer. Loki froze and shattered one last demon, and turned to see no others rising up to replace it. They held for one breath, then two, then relaxed. Thor grinned, throwing his hammer up and catching it.

“Well,” he said, “there was some light sport to warm us up.”

“Light,” Sif said. “One of them would have stabbed you in the back if I hadn’t stopped it.”

“A good thing you were there, then,” Thor said, and though Sif flicked her eyes skywards she didn’t seem truly displeased. Fandral frowned at his sword. 

“I think it melted part of my blade.”

“You need a better blade,” Hogun said. Then paused, and frowned slightly. “Loki, are you well?”

“What?” Loki said. He couldn’t properly catch his breath, for some reason, and he was sweating enough that it felt as though he should be dripping with it. “Yes, fine.” Hogun frowned, and Loki forced himself to straighten and shake his unsteadiness off, though it didn’t go very far. “Why?”

“You look flushed.”

“Only because he’s usually so pale,” Fandral said. “You just aren’t used to seeing him with a little healthy color.”

Thor clapped him on the shoulder and Loki almost stumbled. 

“Aren’t you glad you came along?” he said, grinning. “You would have missed _this._ ”

“And how could I have borne that,” Loki said dryly. Thor frowned at him, and Loki dredged up a crooked smile. “I can’t imagine killing a few fire demons was the glorious victory you were imagining.” 

“I was hoping for a dragon,” Thor said, “or a giant. But there’s still hope.” He gave Loki’s shoulder a squeeze and then pulled away. “Come, my friends! Let’s onward.”

_Let’s not,_ Loki thought, but to himself, and took a deep breath (or tried), sheathing his knives and following after. At least no one seemed to have noticed his weakness. If he could just hold it together...and he could do that. It wasn’t so bad. Uncomfortable, but endurable.

He was a son of Odin. A prince of Asgard. A…

He didn’t feel well. Had he been hit by one of the demons? There was no localized pain, no burning, just a general feeling of malaise, of strain. Asgardian summers were unpleasant enough, but this was something else again. Like being ground between millstone and bedstone, into fine powder.

Loki shook it off and focused. He almost summoned the shield back, but decided that the effort wasn’t worth the slight benefit. He did, however, take the flask he’d brought and drink, gulping down half of it in a few swallows before he could stop himself. 

Norns, this was a miserable realm. 

With a quiet sigh, Loki followed his brother and his friends deeper into the Realm of Fire.

* * *

They came across two more packs of fire demons, and spied a giant salamander, though it slipped into a lake of lava before they could engage it. Fandral claimed to have seen a firebird, but no one else believed him.

No giants, however. And no dragons.

“Cowards!” Thor shouted. “Come out and face us!” 

Loki drew up next to him. “They may just not be here at all,” he said. “From what I have read-”

“Pox on what you’ve _read,_ ” Thor snapped, obviously frustrated. “We’ll find them, wherever they are hiding.” 

Loki’s jaw tightened. “Do you _really_ want to pick a fight with a fire giant on their home territory?” he asked.

“Why?” Thor asked. “Are you frightened?”

Loki’s teeth clicked together. “No,” he said, strained. “I am trying to be _sensible._ One of us ought to be.” 

“You’re just a coward,” Thor said, and Loki flinched. He saw a flash of regret through Thor’s eyes, but Loki forced a laugh.

“And you’re an idiot,” he said. “But if you insist, far be it from me to hold you back. If it comes to it, I can always leave you to find your own way home. Surely you could manage just fine.” 

Thor’s eyes widened. “You wouldn’t.” 

Loki gave him a sharp smile, feeling oddly light-headed and reckless. “We’ll see. So. Where are we going?” 

Thor looked uncertain, glancing over at his friends, who looked equally uncertain. Most of them, anyway. Sif had her eyes narrowed in his direction. Loki kept his gaze on Thor, waiting. 

“We keep going,” he said finally, determination hardening his face. “At least a _bit_ longer. It’d be a waste of a good adventure to leave too soon.”

Loki exhaled. When he breathed in the air felt dry and searing, and blood rushed to his head, then seemed to drain out all at once. He steadied himself, caught Thor looking at him oddly, and bared his teeth in a grin he was sure looked false. 

“Well?” he said. Thor seemed to shake himself and turned away. 

Loki took up the rear. His body felt strange, uncoordinated. He went to swallow more water and found his flask was empty, but he couldn’t remember draining it; he reached for his magic and it slipped out of reach.

That seemed like a bad sign.

The heat was oppressive. Literally - it felt like it was bearing down on him, a physical weight in the air. He was woozy, his head spinning slowly like a top at the end of its spin. His head ached like his brain was trying to escape his skull, his mouth was dry, and his heart was pounding in his ears. 

Were the others feeling like this? Perhaps they all were, and he was the only one who couldn’t bear it.

Loki lurched to a halt and spewed the contents of his stomach on black basalt. 

“Delicate stomach acting up, my prince?” Fandral said. Loki didn’t straighten, taking shuddering, uneven breaths, barely keeping his balance, ears ringing. 

“Loki?” Fandral said, more uncertain. 

He knew what was going to happen a moment before it did. The dizziness swept over him like a wave and dragged him under.

* * *

Someone was trying to choke him. 

No, Loki realized, muddled, it was water. Someone was trying to pour water into his mouth, but he was choking on it. He raised a clumsy hand, trying to push it away, and whoever it was stopped. He coughed a few times, clearing the last of the water.

“Loki,” said Thor’s voice, with a plain thrum of anxiety. “Can you hear me?” 

“Mmn,” he said, and prised his eyes open. This must, he thought, be what it was like to be a goose in an oven. His tongue was thick and slow to move. 

“You fainted,” Thor said. He was hovering over Loki. “And you’re feverish. Burning up.”

“Told you it was hot,” Loki rasped, and closed his eyes again. Thor laid a hand on his forehead and then pulled it away. 

“What’s the matter with him?” he heard Sif ask.

“It’s the heat, I think,” Thor said. “Does anyone have more water?” 

“Here,” said Hogun. The sound of pouring water, and tearing cloth, and Thor laid something damp across his forehead. It was tepid, but it felt heavenly, and Loki moaned faintly. Aware of how pathetic he sounded, how pathetic he must _look,_ but he felt as though he might literally melt. His heart pounded fast and hard in his chest. 

“M’fine,” he said, slurred. “Just...give me a minute.” 

Thor made a sound like a strangled laugh. “ _Fine,_ ” he said. Loki made an effort at peeling himself off the ground, but just trying made his head swim and he felt like he might vomit again.

“We need to get somewhere cooler where you can rest,” Thor said. 

“That won’t be good enough,” Hogun said. 

“What are you saying?” Thor demanded. 

“We need to call Heimdall,” Hogun said. “Ask him to bring us back.”

“What?” Sif said, almost squawked. “He will undoubtedly tell the Allfather-”

Norns, Loki thought weakly. Thor was never going to forgive him for this. He needed more air, but couldn’t focus on deep breaths, only shallow, uneven ones through his mouth.

_Never should have come here. Knew it was a bad idea. Just can’t say no to Thor, though, can you._ His head pounded and it sounded like _weak, weak, weak._

He must have blinked out, because when he was paying attention again Thor was shaking him and saying his name. He tried to focus and pull himself together. _You’re embarrassing yourself._

“Loki,” he said. “Say something.”

Loki licked his lips, or tried. His tongue felt thick and sticky. “What,” he said, and then trailed off, trying to get his thoughts to string together and failing. His body ached terribly as with a fever, and there was a muffled ringing in his ears. There was something a bit panicky in Thor’s expression. 

“Heimdall!” he shouted, throwing his head back. “Bring us back!”

“We’re fucked,” Loki heard Fandral say. He let his eyes fall closed again, dimly aware of Thor gathering him into his arms. His face burned with shame. Or maybe just burned. 

He didn’t feel the Bifrost sweep them up. He was aware of the suddenly cool air on his skin, the air no longer searing his throat, and gasped with relief, but his heart was still pounding rabbit-fast, his head spinning, everything spinning.

“He needs a healer,” Loki heard Thor say. “Quickly, he was - he had some kind of fit-”

A _fit?_ Loki thought, dazed. He didn’t remember that. He opened his eyes and the coruscating colors of the Bifrost seemed to dance. Thor was talking, but he wasn’t making any sense, the words muddled and nonsensical. 

Between one blink and the next he was lying on the Bifrost. Loki could feel it singing - not _hear_ but _feel,_ like vibrations in his lungs, but it wasn’t that in his lungs, something else, not air. Or not enough air. He could hear the roar of the water pouring over the edge of Asgard-

The water. It would be cold. Would put out the fire burning in his flesh and he wouldn’t be so _hot_ anymore, would be able to _think,_ and all he had to do was get to it. Turning his head and opening his eyes, the edge wasn’t so far away. He rolled to his stomach and, giving up on dignity, crawled. 

He was _almost there_ when he heard a cry of alarm and someone grabbed him. He fought, reflexively, trying to twist free and get away _get away_ from their hot grasp, but he was too weak to break loose and he was slipping, sliding, back into darkness.

* * *

The next time he woke, he could breathe. He still felt ill, weak, but he was no longer burning as he had been. He recognized the slight muzziness that meant he was under one of the many spells that promoted healing and eased pain at the expense of higher function, considered breaking it, and decided he didn’t want to know how he’d feel without it. He wasn’t in his own bed, but one of the healing rooms, which said something about the state of his recovery.

Loki stared at the ceiling, trying to piece together his memories. The period of time after he’d fainted was a muddled mess of nonsense, but he could piece together enough to have shame and dread coalescing in his gut. Not enough that he’d embarrassed himself by succumbing so dramatically to temperatures the others had tolerated without complaint, but the catastrophic end of their little jaunt all but assured his father’s rage.

And that, in turn, would prompt Thor’s. Loki could almost hear him: _why didn’t you say something sooner, what is wrong with you, why do you have to ruin everything._

Rolling over, Loki managed to get to his feet with painstaking effort, legs only wobbling a bit. He went to the washroom, relieved himself, and splashed some water on his face; in the mirror he looked wretchedly pale, sickly and drained. 

Frigga was there when he emerged. 

Loki stopped dead. “Mother,” he said.

“You should be careful standing,” she said, but if the words were reproving, her grasp of his hands was gentle, even as she steered him back over to the bed. 

“I’m fine,” he said weakly, voice faltering when she frowned. 

“ _Now,_ ” she said. “You are _now_ ‘fine,’ but you are not wholly well. Nor will you be for a day or two yet.”

Loki glanced away and scoffed. “I am not going to languish here like an invalid-”

“Yes,” Frigga interrupted. “You are. Until Eir, and I, are satisfied - that is exactly what you are going to do.” Her voice did not brook argument. Loki almost argued anyway, but decided against it, sitting down and folding his hands between his knees. 

“Spare me the lecture,” he said after a long silence. “I am aware that it was a poor decision.”

“A poor-” Frigga broke off and took a deep, steadying breath. “Are you aware that you might have _died?_ ”

Loki blinked. He supposed he had been abstractly aware that the situation had been dire, but he couldn’t remember thinking at any point that it might be _fatal._ Then, he hadn’t been thinking much of anything at the time. His hesitation was apparently answer enough, because Frigga let out an explosive sigh and rubbed her forehead. 

“You were seizing,” she said. “Delirious. You tried to throw yourself off the Bifrost - presumably into the water in an attempt to cool off, though there’s no way to know for certain as you weren’t exactly explaining yourself. Your body was beginning to break down on its most basic level, your organs were swollen, and your brain was cooking in your skull. Left much longer, there would have been permanent damage. Or death.” 

Loki felt the blood drain from his face and his stomach turned. He stared at her, horrified by the mental image she’d conjured. Frigga took another deep breath, visibly calming herself. 

“Will you tell me what you were thinking, going to Muspellheim?” 

The first words that jumped to his lips were _it was Thor’s idea._ But he was not quite prepared to throw his brother that far under Sleipnir’s hooves. “I’d never been. I was curious.” 

“You were _curious,_ ” Frigga said. “Did it not occur to you that perhaps there are _good reasons_ why that Realm is forbidden to you?” 

Loki’s jaw clenched. “Is that a general ‘you’ or to me specifically?”

“General,” Frigga said, though after a heartbeat. “But you in particular must know - you suffer enough in Asgardian summers. Did you think that an entire Realm of fire would be more endurable?” 

Loki’s shoulders locked. “Thor seemed to endure perfectly adequately.”

“You are not your brother.” 

_No. I’m weaker._ Loki gritted his teeth and said nothing. 

“Loki…”

“I beg your pardon,” he said flatly, “for my recklessness. May I ask what is to be the penalty for my disobedience?”

“None,” Frigga said, after a moment. “I persuaded your father that you and your brother were punished adequately for your actions by their consequences alone. Your friends, I expect, shall answer to their own families.”

Loki rocked back a bit, surprised. “No penalty,” he said slowly. Frigga set a level gaze on him. “For Thor, either?” 

“Yes,” Frigga said. “I judged him contrite enough. He seems to feel responsible for persuading you to come.”

That was, of course, true, but Loki found himself saying, “that’s ridiculous. You know Thor couldn’t convince me to do anything I didn’t want to do.” 

Frigga’s eyebrows rose fractionally. “Mm,” she said, and Loki flushed. 

“ _You_ judged,” he said, trying to redirect the conversation. “What about father?”

“He is...not pleased,” Frigga said, and Loki winced, cringing. “You frightened him. And your father does not like to be afraid. But we have spoken, and I persuaded him that there is no need to press this matter further, and it would be better to let the two of you go, having learned your lesson.” Her eyes narrowed. “I _hope_ you have learned your lesson.” 

Loki looked down at his hands, twisting in his lap. “I would say so.” 

“Good,” Frigga said firmly. “Then we can put this behind us, and move forward.”

Shame prickled at Loki like nettles, but he made himself nod. “Yes,” he said. “That would, of course, be preferable.” 

“Loki…” Frigga sighed. “You should rest. Though now that you are awake, I expect your brother will be here to see you shortly.” 

He did feel weak. ( _Was_ weak.) Tired, and embarrassed. Frigga bent down and smoothed his hair back, kissing him gently on the forehead in a way that was both deeply reassuring and made him feel childish. 

“It was a foolish thing you did,” she said, “but I trust that you will not do it again. And in the end, I am just glad you are all right.” 

When she had gone, Loki slumped back, humiliation burning a hole in his stomach. He closed his eyes, seeking refuge in the oblivion of sleep.

* * *

Thor woke him.

He was trying not to, but Loki was not sleeping heavily enough not to wake at his tripping over a chair. The lights were off, and Loki clicked his fingers to turn them on.

“I was sleeping,” he said. Thor looked apologetic, but also more than a little like he was relieved to see Loki. As though he’d thought he wouldn’t be there. 

“I am sorry,” Thor said. “I just wanted...I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Well done at that,” Loki said, not entirely certain why he was being nasty, but without the energy to figure out how to stop. Thor just winced, though, rather than snapping back, which took all of the satisfaction out of it and just left Loki feeling small. 

“You look better,” Thor ventured after a moment. He seemed, Loki realized, uncertain. It was a strange thing to see on him. 

“So they tell me,” Loki said after a moment. “They might even let me out within the week.” 

Thor’s eyes widened. “The _week?_ That long?”

“I’m _fine,_ ” Loki said, a little irritation rising. “The healers are just being overcautious.” Thor looked suspicious, and Loki dropped his head back and turned his eyes toward the ceiling. “Not you, too.”

“Loki-” Thor cut off, and even as he took a deep breath Loki knew what he was going to say. “I’m sorry. This is my fault. I persuaded you to join us and then I wasn’t paying attention, I ignored that you were suffering-”

“Please don’t,” Loki interrupted, strained. 

“Why? I should have-”

“I am not a child for you to coddle,” Loki said, sitting up. “I might have refused you. I might have turned back of my own accord. I did not. It was my own stupidity, and I won’t have you flogging yourself over it as though I require you to nursemaid me.” 

“That isn’t my point,” Thor said, some frustration leaking into his voice. “I only meant to say that we are meant to watch each others’ backs, and I didn’t watch yours.”

“You shouldn’t have had to!”

Thor looked shocked. Loki realized belatedly that he’d raised his voice; he hadn’t meant to. He hadn’t meant to say that, either.

“What do you mean,” Thor said carefully.

_It isn’t your responsibility that I’m weak._ Loki clamped his mouth closed and looked away. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It seems as though it does.”

“It doesn’t,” Loki said. “I am just...bored. And consequently ill-tempered.” 

“Understandable,” Thor said after a moment, though his brows were still furrowed unhappily. “Is there anything I might bring you?” 

“I don’t want you barging into my rooms,” Loki said. “Thank you, but no.”

Thor shifted, seemingly at a loss. “It is...a miracle, is it not, that father is not punishing us?” 

“A minor one, to be sure.” Loki knew he sounded sullen, sulky, and he felt it. 

Thor hesitated, then said, “I would rather he had than...than you having been hurt so badly.” He sounded tentative, as though he expected Loki to snap at him, and Loki was tempted. But he managed to hold it back, suddenly just tired. 

“I’m not angry with you, Thor,” he said. “You can stop acting as though you expect me to be.” 

“I don’t expect you to be,” Thor said. “That isn’t…” He trailed off, quiet for several moments before he spoke again. “I thought you were going to die. Mother said you almost did.”

Loki crossed his arms over his chest. “Yes, well. I didn’t.” 

“But I _thought…_ ” Thor took a deep breath and seemed to shake himself. “No matter. Only…” His smile looked forced. “What would become of me without you to get me out of trouble?” 

“Norns only know,” Loki said. “In all probability your life would be much shorter.” 

Thor’s laugh sounded a bit less false. “It’s a good thing that you are well, then,” he said. “Ensure that doesn’t change.”

“I shall do my best,” Loki said. “Obviously such is in my own best interests as well.” 

Without warning, Thor hugged him. Hard, fiercely, and almost too tight. Loki let out a strangled sound of surprise. “Thor-!”

A moment later Thor released him and almost bounced to his feet. “I am glad to see you awake,” he said. “And looking better. If bored. Next time we’ll go to Jotunheim instead, eh?” 

Loki raised his eyebrows. “Certainly,” he drawled. “Jotunheim. That sounds like a terrific idea.”

Thor cast him that beaming smile that made Loki’s heart twist. “I knew you’d think so,” he said. “Go back to sleep. I need to go tell our friends you’ve woken.” 

Loki managed not to make a face. “Must you? I’d sooner not greet them laid out like an invalid.” 

“They’ve been asking,” Thor said. “Come. You said you were bored.” 

Loki fell back and waved a hand. “Do as you like,” he said. “You always do.” 

Thor laughed again, and went out. Loki lay awake and alone, the warmth of his brother’s presence fading. _Do as you like,_ he had said. _You always do._

It didn’t matter what Loki wanted. It didn’t matter what he _said._ Thor decided what was best. Thor decided where they went, and what they did. He decided what Loki needed. Never mind _Loki._

Anger gnawed at his heart like a rat, making a cavern in his chest, leaving revealed something resentful, and bitter, and black. 

He did his best to bury it. But he suspected that, like a revenant, it would come back. It wasn’t a new thing, after all, and it only ever seemed to grow larger.


End file.
